O grave, where is thy victory?
by Ich bin ein Schmetterling
Summary: "Don't you understand? I won." Oneshot written for Starvation. Mags' Hunger Games.


**This is written for Starvation's monthly challenge, this one's prompt being, "Don't you understand? I won." The title is a Bible quote, 'cause I'm cool like that.**

**It's told from Mags' point of view. Enjoy :) **

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

I wasn't always like this. So quiet, so defenceless, so kind and self sacrificing. My mind is deteriorating, and so is my body, creeping ever closer to that moment where they will cease to work at all. That's all anyone sees when they look at me now: a sweet, frail old lady. No one remembers my own Hunger Games, the Eleventh Hunger Games.

I was sixteen years old, naïve but not innocent. Certainly not innocent. Since I saw the first Games when I was five years old, I was mesmerised by the power, the strength of the victors. I wanted to be that person, looked on with respect and admiration and even fear. I wanted to live in that massive, beautiful house in Victor's Village and I wanted everyone in Panem to know my name. My father encouraged it. He was my own personal trainer, pushing me harder and harder as I grew older. My twelfth birthday came, and I looked eagerly to my honourable father for instructions.

"Not yet, darling, you're not strong enough. Come on, spear practice today."

And so it was for the next four years. I got up, trained, went to school, trained and then went to bed. When the Games was on I watched with the same twisted fascination I had when I was a child. I took notice of every little detail, from the most common features of the arena, to mutts, to the best survival strategies. I couldn't wait to put my knowledge into practice.

_I was going to win._

I guess it didn't really become real for me until I was dropped into the arena. Not when I volunteered, not when I said "see you" to my parents, not during training or afterwards, when I received my score of nine. Then, I was just going through the motions, not thinking about what I was doing. I was confident, I was excited, and I was deadly. And I was not scared. What could I possibly face in there that could be a threat to me?

_I was going to win._

The Cornucopia lay in the centre of a flat circle of dirty brown rock, elevated above the rest of the arena as the terrain jolted downwards, creating hills and valleys of jagged rock as far as you could see. The heat was intense and unrelenting, with not a cloud in the sky. The lack of water was slightly disconcerting for me, when I first saw the arena, but I quickly got over it. I was a Career, strong and determined. So I was without my district advantage? I was still in a much better position then most of the other tributes. I could still win this easily. And it might even work out to be an advantage, if the only water is the water found at the Cornucopia, as the Careers always secure the supplies from the start, and the other tributes can't survive without such a basic necessity.

_I was going to win._

As the seconds before the gong sounded ticked away, my eyes searched the Cornucopia for my weapon of choice. Sure enough, right in the middle was a shining trident. It was more than I could've hoped for. I knew there was bound to have been a spear of some sort, but a trident… I smiled. This was too easy.

_I was going to win._

The gong rang out, loud and penetrating, and all thoughts were gone from my head but the animal instinct to survive and I ran, heart thumping, into the middle of what was soon to be a bloodbath. Thanks to my father's intensive training, I was very fast, and so I reached the Cornucopia and my precious trident first. I spun round and immediately my weapon found its home in the chest of the District 9 boy who had been picking up a set of throwing knives behind me. I did a quick scan to see where everyone else was heading. Some tributes were scrambling down the side of the rock, desperate to get away. Idiots. Without water, they'd be dead in a couple of days. Probably less. Some slightly more intelligent ones were choosing to stay and fight, knowing that without this stuff they didn't stand a chance. The boy from 11, brawny from lifting stacks of hay all day, had managed to get hold of a mace and was doing some serious damage with it, taking swings at the girl from District One, who was managing to avoid him by ducking and twirling out the way, while trying to get her hands on her own weapon. She was light on her feet and had obviously been trained. She was one I had to look out for. If she made it through the bloodbath, that is. And that wasn't a certainty – although the 11 boy was untrained and lacked technique, he made up for it in brute force.

_But I was going to win._

I saw my district partner, Cian, with an armful of spears, sitting atop the Cornucopia with both the tributes from Two, laughing as they easily picked off some of the weaker tributes. The boy from One was wielding a sword and running around the Cornucopia, killing anyone daring to get too close. I stole a glance back to his district partner, just in time to see a poorly judged manoeuvre on her part to get out of the way of the mace slamming down into her skull. One Career down. The boy from 11 chose this moment to make his leave, gathering an armful of supplies and running away from the Cornucopia. I briefly considered following him, but at this stage in the game it was too dangerous. I decided to keep mostly in the background and let the other Careers take centre stage. My moment would come later on, and no one would expect it.

_I was going to win._

The bloodbath was over relatively quickly, and after only about an hour, the boy from One, both tributes from Two, Cian and I were the only ones remaining at the Cornucopia. We sorted out the supplies, and as darkness fell it was decided that the others would go out hunting the weaklings while I kept guard. This arrangement suited me fine.

_I was going to win._

The next eight days passed quickly, with many deaths, but our pack of Careers remained undiminished after the initial death of the girl from One and the death of Cian on the third day, after he ate a poisonous berry. It was only us four, the boy from 11 and the boy from 3 left. Our camp remained at the Cornucopia, the flattest, highest circle of land in the arena, but we didn't have a clue where the other two were hiding. I don't think the other Careers took me too seriously, and most of the time they left me to keep guard while they went out for the real fun. But we were down to six. Time for the week ones to be destroyed and very nearly time for our alliance to end. It was early evening on the ninth day when we saw a flash of a fluorescent green rucksack in the distance. The boy from Two grinned across at me.

"Why don't you go? It's time you proved your worth."

He didn't expect me to make it back alive. He hadn't seen exactly what I could do, and my nine in training had already been forgotten.

_But I was going to win._

I kept on high ground, peering down into the valleys I pass as I ran in the direction the rucksack was spotted.

_I was going to win._

And that's when it went off. The volcano. Towering above the rest of the arena, I turn to see the lava flowing from the former Career camp. Three Careers dead. Only two more to kill.

_I was going to win._

I didn't stop running for a second, but I listened for the cannons that would confirm my former allies' deaths. One... Two… Three… Four! Four dead? One of the other tributes must've infiltrated our camp. All the better for me.

_I was going to win._

That's when I spotted him. District 11. He was in the valley looking up at me, mace raised, ready. This was my chance. Kill or be killed.

_I was going to win._

I charged down the slope, trusty trident ready. He did not falter in his stance, or betray a look of fear, but neither did I.

_I was going to win._

I reached the bottom and lunged with my trident, catching his mace in between two prongs and twisting, so it fell out of his hands. I kicked away and pushed him to the ground, prolonging my moment of glory.

_I was going to win._

But as I knelt down over his defenceless body, the weirdest thing happened. He laughed. Soft, tired chuckles, but it was unmistakably laughter. I gritted my teeth and raised my trident in anger.

"What, don't you understand, Eleven?" I snarled. "I've won."

"What, don't you understand, Four?" he mocked me. He stopped laughing and leant up, putting his arm around my neck and pulling me close so he could whisper in my ear. "No one wins these games."

Fury overtook me and I slammed him back to the floor and stabbed him right through the heart. The cannon sounded.

_I'd won._

"So, the question we've all been dying to know the answer to," Trodon Newman, the presenter of the Games back then, smiled at me. "What did Willard whisper to you? A plead for mercy? A final wish? He must've known the whole time he didn't stand a chance against a strong, merciless tribute such as yourself, right?"

And that's when I realised who I was. I was a Career. I was a stereotype; I was a statistic; I was a murderer. I was a _monster._ I had left the arena alive, but I had not won. That was a person. A real person, with real thoughts and feelings and a family and a future that I'd taken away from him. But there was someone more to blame for his death. The people of the Capitol, our beloved _president_. But I could wait for revenge. I knew in my heart that I wasn't the person, but one day, there would be a spark that would ignite a revolution. And when that day came, the Capitol would pay.

"I don't know," I lied. "I didn't hear him."

**I think this is the longest any of my one shots have been O.o Please, please, please review; it's what I live for! You'll get a cookie? (:**


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